The New New Yorker
by Katta
Summary: The Doctor and Donna visit New Earth and are saddled with a responsibility they don't quite know how to handle. Crossover with the old Beauty and the Beast TV series.


"I need to have a chat with an old friend of mine," the Doctor had said. "New Earth isn't much of a planet anymore, I'm afraid, but it'll just be a brief visit. Anyway, you'll like Novice Hame. I think."

Donna had never cared much for nuns _or_ cats, but she had to admit that Novice Hame was nice enough, as well as ridiculously pleased to see the Doctor. "You'll have to meet my sister Meien," she'd said. Meien's house had been a downright petting zoo, with kittens and catbabies everywhere. If there was one thing that made Donna grateful she wasn't a catperson, it was this business with _litters_. One baby at a time was bad enough, as far as she was concerned. But the Doctor seemed thrilled, and all right, it was kind of cute, seeing him surrounded by little meowing critters like that.

"Here you go, darling," Meien had said, putting a bundled-up catbaby in Donna's arms.

"Oh, no, not me," Donna had protested, but Meien had gone suddenly deaf or something, because she went off to make tea, and there Donna was, holding a baby. A _cat_baby.

The Doctor gave her a goofy grin. "You look quite maternal."

"If I ever had a baby like that, I'd... well." She looked down at the little thing. "He's kind of cute, though. For, you know, an alien. Lovely eyes."

The catbaby yawned, showing off his small, sharp teeth, and blinked a couple of times. His eyes were really very big and very blue.

* * *

So sure, it had been nice enough, but of course, with the Doctor it could never be just tea and kittens. It had to be revolutions and assassinations and things blowing up. By the time they were back in the TARDIS, Donna was gasping for air, and she thought she'd never be able to erase the image of those dead kittens from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," the Doctor said quietly, his face stony as he set the coordinates and started the TARDIS.

"What the hell are we going to do!?" Donna cried.

"There's nothing we can do. It's history now. We'd be crossing our own timeline."

"Doctor! What are we going to do _about the baby_!?"

She held out the weeping bundle for him to see, and he stared at it for a couple of seconds before his face brightened in a smile. "You saved one! Oh, well done, Donna! Well done!"

"We have to bring him back." On top of everything else, she was starting to smell something she really didn't want to smell.

"We can't," the Doctor said, no longer smiling. "His family's dead, and you saw what it's like there. New Earth at this point is a powder keg. I should have checked the coordinates better."

"We're both fine and we saved him, so never mind that," Donna said. "But we can't keep him."

"Well..." the Doctor started, looking thoughtful.

"He's a catbaby," Donna reminded him. "Not exactly inconspicuous. You want to pop back to London with a catbaby? A kitten would have been one thing, we could just ask it not to talk when we have company, but this one? And I don't have the first clue how to take care of him. What does he eat?"

"Milk?" the Doctor suggested.

"What kind of milk?"

"Oh. Ah. I see your point there. Still, I'm sure we'll think of something."

"Really," Donna said. "In that case, why don't we start with some nappies?"

"Nappies? Right, nappies. I'm sure there's something in the wardrobe."

"Good." She handed the baby over to the Doctor. "I'll go look for them. You start changing him."

* * *

The TARDIS wardrobe _did_ have nappies, and she found the Doctor in one of the bathrooms, busy cooing over the baby.

"Who's got a furry little nose? Oh, it's so furry. It's cute and it's furry... Thank you, Donna."

She watched with some fascination as the Doctor expertly changed the baby's nappies.

"Never thought you'd be this good with babies."

"What, you think I've never done this before?" The Doctor finished the job and started rocking the baby on his knee. The baby gave a gurgling laugh. "I've changed nappies lots of times. Lots and lots and lots."

"Really? Just how many babies have you known?"

The Doctor's face closed up, like it always did when he thought about his planet. Oh, brilliant. He'd had children, hadn't he? And she just had to go remind him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's all right."

It pretty clearly wasn't, but there were more pressing matters at hand. "Good thing you're experienced, though, because I'm no good. I mean it. If you're thinking 'let's make Donna the mummy,' don't. This one's up to you."

The Doctor sighed.

"And don't look at me like that," she added.

"Maybe Martha would like to have him. She's a doctor, she has to be able to figure out the best way to take care of him."

Trust the Doctor to saddle his ex-companion with an alien baby. For all Donna knew, Martha might even agree. She was a sensible girl for the most part, but she let the Doctor get away with far too much.

"Hang on, isn't she working with that UNIT lot? What if they bisect him or something?"

"Dissect, and she'd never let anyone do that. No, she wouldn't," he assured the baby. "Yes, that's what we should do. Take him to Martha, where we can keep an eye on him."

* * *

The TARDIS, as usual, had another idea.

"This isn't London," Donna declared the moment they stepped out on the street. "I don't think it's even England." She frowned at a shop window. "And it's the fifties."

"And it's New York," the Doctor said, looking up.

She followed his gaze. The Statue of Liberty was certainly a lot bigger in real life than on the telly. "Oh, God." She nodded towards the TARDIS. "Pop back in, try again?"

"Nah," the Doctor said. "Why should we? New York is the perfect place! Melting pot, big apple!"

"You really believe that, don't you?"

It was a good thing the baby was sleeping. She looked odd enough traipsing after the Doctor as it was; at least this way she could keep the baby bundled up so people didn't notice that he was... well... an alien.

She was willing to give him this much, though, he was much better behaved than cats in general. And those little blond curls were really adorable, made him look a bit lion-like.

"I need to know what we're going to do," she told the Doctor as they stood on the underground. She'd been offered a seat, but she wasn't sitting down in that gunk. "We can't just hand him over to the first passing stranger that seems reliable."

"Hm," he said, a faraway expression on his face. "Who do I know in New York? I don't suppose Hooverville is still up and running... Oh!" He started wildly looking around. "Oh, oh, oh! Come on, Donna, we need to make a connection!"

"Where to?" she asked, but he was already running over to another underground train, and she had to rush after him.

"The thing is, Donna," he explained to her enthusiastically on the train, "I _do_ know some New Yorkers. Lovely bunch of people! I didn't think of them before, because I won't meet them for quite some time yet, but they're there already, or they're about to be. Best thing that ever came out of McCarthyism. Well, unless you count that business with the toad. Coming to think of it, they're a bit like Hooverville – I wonder if that's what they turned into. A bit more inconspicuous, of course, there's only so long you can keep a camp going after the Depression ends. I wonder what happened to Lazlo? There were feline elements, but never any pig elements, not that I noticed. And of course I heard the stories, but I never realized... isn't it wonderful, Donna?" He grabbed her shoulders and nearly made her drop the baby. "We're making history! And it's all the way it should be. We're meant to be right here. Ah, here's our stop!"

He dragged her with him out of the station and up a street, until they reached a hospital building.

"Here you go," he said, taking the baby from her arms and gently putting him down on the steps, rearranging the blanket to make him comfortable. "You just wait right here, and a nice man will be by to pick you up."

"Doctor!" Donna protested. "You can't just leave him lying there!"

"Oh, it's just for a little while. It'll all work out for the best. Don't worry, I'll bring you back later to see his grandchildren."

"Grandchildren? You mean he's going to... with a _human_?"

"Of course! Why not? He's cute, isn't he?"

"Cute is one thing," she said, trying to rid herself of the mental image. "Pets are cute, but you don't... echh!"

"Oh, don't be so insular," the Doctor said and took off. He was practically skipping.

She threw a last, hesitant glance at the baby and followed the Doctor. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?"

"He'll be better than all right," the Doctor assured her, grinning. "He'll be a legend."


End file.
